


Alexithymia

by Lil_Lycanthropy



Series: DWCAU (Dog Walking/College AU) [3]
Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual, Autism, Coming Out, Fluff, Gender, Genderfluid, Genderqueer, M/M, Transgender, non-binary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Lycanthropy/pseuds/Lil_Lycanthropy
Summary: Logan feels something isn't quite right about him, but he can't figure out what.





	1. Different

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back to writing for the Sanders Sides fandom yay!

 

Logan always knew he was different, in more ways than one.

At first, Logan thought he was just...odd. He didn’t like the same things as the other kids, would get hyper-fixated on the things he did find interesting, found it harder to make friends because people were so damn hard to understand, would constantly be adjusting his glasses even though they were perfect the entire time, and couldn’t handle certain things without having a panic attack.

In grade three, he was diagnosed with ASD—Autism Spectrum Disorder. It definitely explained a few things. 

Things got worse in high school. He tried to hide the parts of himself that weren’t deemed socially acceptable, but it was hard. To keep his true self locked away in fear of social rejection—it took a toll on him.

Then he met Patton.

They met at the library on a rainy day. Logan was curled up in the corner with a book, flipping through the pages. He loved reading, but had already memorized the book ( _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_ by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle), and loved the feeling of the book in his hands, the flickering sound it made as he rapidly skimmed through the pages with his fingers, and the woody smell of the old book.

Suddenly, a voice broke through his reverie.

“You’re going to have trouble reading when you flip through it that fast,” he said lightheartedly.

Logan looked up at the person—with a grey cardigan wrapped around his shoulders and identical glasses to his—and set the book down, cheeks turning slightly pink.

“I wasn’t reading that fast, I just, um, liked the feeling.”

While most people would’ve stopped interacting right then and there, the stranger just chuckled and extended a hand.

“You look uncomfortable down there.”  


“No, I am quite content.”

“Well, how would you like to go get a coffee?”

Logan squinted at him. “Like a date?”  


The stranger shrugged. “Not really. You just looked lonely. Thought you could use some company.”  


Logan didn’t really need 'company', but nevertheless grabbed his extended hand and hauled himself up as gracefully as he could.

“I’m Logan,” he said, dusting off his pants.

“Patton. Now, where’s the best cafe around here?”

So Logan took him to a little diner called Enchanted Coffee, where they began to meet every Saturday for a quick cup. 

Eventually talking turned into hand-holding, and hand-holding turned into hugs, and hugs turned into kisses.  


It was the best time of Logan’s life.

Patton didn’t care that he was different. He didn’t care that Logan would flap his arms when frustrated, or that he had memorized entire books and that would sometimes be his only dialogue for the day, or that he didn’t want to partake in his incessant high-fives at first because they made his skin crawl.

Patton didn’t treat him like an emotionless robot. Patton _cared_ about him.

Every chance he got with Patton, he would bring up whatever new information he learned that day. Patton was more than happy to listen to Logan ramble, sometimes for hours, about whatever was important to him.

And Patton was an amazing listener.

No matter what, whatever time of day or night, if Logan needed to talk, Patton was there to let him. It was so rare Logan got a chance to be himself—as his true self was a bit eccentric—but with Patton, he felt like he was coming home.

Logan loved Patton with all his gay little heart, despite being told numerous times he didn’t have one.

* * *

Patton would never tire of hearing Logan ramble.

The way his eyes lit up, the way his lips would quirk into that little half-smile before going off on a topic, the way he had to physically stop himself and remember to breathe after forgoing it for three minutes because _shh, Patton, this is important._

Patton was in love.

And that was the problem. 

It was total, platonic, best friend love, but love nonetheless. Just not the love Logan was looking for.

He hoped Logan would understand.

* * *

 

Things came to an end three months later at a small local diner, where Logan had ordered his fourth cup of coffee for the day.

“We need to talk, Lo.”

Well, that never ended well.

Logan nevertheless adjusted his glasses and stirred his coffee, eyes trained on the swirl he was creating. He wasn’t normally one to play with his food (or coffee), but he had forgotten his stim devices back at his apartment, so he had to make do.

“Yes?” he finally said after the silence stretched on uncomfortably.

“I’m not...at least, I don’t think I’m gay.”

Logan nearly dropped his spoon. “So you’re...straight, and this was all a joke? Is that it then? This was all some clever ploy to make me look foolish?”

“No! No, no, no, I’m not straight, and this wasn’t a joke or anything like that. I just...did some soul-searching, I guess you would call it. I would never do anything to hurt you, Logan.”

“So then why are you breaking up with me?”

“I never—I never said I was,” Patton sputtered out.

Logan blinked at him. “So we’re...staying together?”

“No—I mean, not that I don’t think you’re amazing and wonderful and fantastic it’s just...I’m pretty sure I’m not attracted to you in the way you want me to be. I went into this relationship because I felt we had a connection. I just realize now, it’s more...platonic,” he finished weakly. Gathering his courage, he took a sip of hot chocolate. “I think I’m asexual and aromantic.”

“Asexual? Like...binary fission?”

Patton laughed. “Ah, you’re such a nerd sometimes, Logan.”

“Falsehood. I am a nerd all the time. Anyway, what do you mean by ‘asexual’ and 'aromantic'?”

“It means...well, it means I’m not exactly attracted to anyone. Male, female, or otherwise.”

Observing him silently for a moment, Logan finally nodded his head. “Alright. I understand,” he said, drinking his coffee with a slightly trembling hand.

Sure, Logan was heartbroken, but he got over it quickly when he realized how much it took out of Patton to break up. Whether or not his feelings were romantic or not, they were incredibly strong.

“I love you, a lot, but I don’t want to lead you on,” he said one day while they were curled up in each other’s laps—one of the few times Logan was openly accepting physical contact.

“Can you tell me more about your asexuality? It is not something I’m well-versed in.”

“What do you want to know?” he said lazily, stroking Logan’s hair.

“How long have you known?”

Patton paused. “Early on when we were dating, I realized I felt intense love for you, in the way that I don’t want anything bad to happen to you and I want you to feel safe, secure, and comfortable with yourself, and I wanna hold your hand sometimes or lay down and sleep together, but I don’t want to kiss you or anything like that. I know you’re not always comfortable with it, and frankly, I’m not, either.”

They continued their conversation on different sexualities, and it eventually turned towards all things queer. 

Patton helped Logan understand. Usually things seemed so black and white, but Patton helped him see shades of grey. He realized there was always more than two options. In fact, the conversation kicked off his special interest in the LGBTQ+ community.

He worked tirelessly to educate himself on the history of queer, his brothers and sisters and non-binary siblings. He learned about Stonewall, the trans women population amongst Sumerians, the history of the word queer and its reclamation in the ’50s, the AIDS crisis, the origin of the trans flag, and more.

It was then he felt something bubbling up inside him. A feeling that he isn’t who he wants to be.

He felt entirely disconnected from himself, and he can’t place his finger on the source of his alexithymia, he just knew he’d been feeling it for a long time.

After five years of living in an a permanent state of not feeling quite right, he decided it was time to figure out why.


	2. Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has a daunting challenge ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't get a chance to publish on the weekend!

After setting up a little lunch date with Patton, Logan began rehearsing what he was going to say in his head. He practiced for a good hour, but it didn’t matter fifteen minutes later when he was sitting across from Patton, who was sipping hot chocolate.

He was nervous as hell, hands shaking slightly as they stirred his coffee. Logan tried to get the nerve to speak up several times, but they ended up sitting in silence for a good long time.

“Anything on your mind, Lo?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. Yes, there were many things on his mind—there always were.

He decided to grit his teeth and spit it out.

“I’m queer,” Logan finally said.

Patton looked up from his hot chocolate, a confused look overtaking his expression. “Um, Lo...I know.”

“No—I don’t just mean my sexuality. There’s something else.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, trying to gather the courage, he mumbled out, “I’m genderqueer.”

A surprised look crossed Patton’s face, but it quickly broke out into a proud grin. “Alright, that’s great! What pronouns do you want me to use?”  
  
Patton’s positive reaction inspired Logan to speak without a tremble in his voice. “I think I’ll still use he/him, but I might want to try they/them sometimes?”

“What do you mean ‘sometimes’?”

“Well, there are days I feel he/him suits me more, but other times, I feel like they/them is better. I get that it can be confusing, and I’ll try to explain.” He took another sip of his coffee as he tried to gather his thoughts. “So, I’m genderqueer. To me, that means I don’t really feel male or female, though maybe I feel like a bit of both. It’s a little hard to explain when you’re not the one going through it. Anyway, I think I’m also slightly genderfluid, because sometimes I want to go by different pronouns and present myself differently, and I get that that can be a little weird, but—”  


“Breathe, Logan. I don’t think it’s weird. Besides, it doesn’t matter what I think; it matters how you feel. And more than anything, I want you to feel like you can be yourself.”

Logan blushed and look down at his lap.

“Hey, Lo?”  


Logan looked back up, cheeks still pink.

“I’m proud of you.”

He smiled and took a sip of his coffee, relieved it went well.

* * *

 

Logan was slightly less prepared to come out to Roman. There was no extravagant plan for dinner and a heartfelt discussion about coming out. 

Nope, it all started with a t-shirt.

Roman came home one day, carrying an opaque plastic bag from Hot Topic, which was never a good thing.

“Oh, my dearest Logan, look what I’ve bought for you!” Roman said in a sing-song voice, raising his eyebrow at Logan.

“Isn’t it Virgil’s job to shop at Hot Topic?” Logan asked, smiling teasingly.

“Shut up, you’ll love it.” He handed the bag over to Logan and took a seat across from where Logan was sitting on the couch with his laptop.

They opened the bag and pulled out a dark shirt with little dots of white paint splattered all over it. They turned it around, surprised to see a stereotypical green alien and the words “homosexualien” underneath in dripping letters. Not really their typical style, but they would definitely use it as a pyjama shirt. 

It was, after all, completely and utterly _them_.

“Thanks, Roman,” Logan said, folding it up neatly and setting it on their lap, giving Roman a small, genuine smile.

“No problemo, Space Boy.”

Discomfort curled in Logan’s gut, the smile slipping from their face. They were honestly having a more “they” day today, and it made them feel bad for some unknown reason. Like they were doing something wrong.

“Please don’t call me that,” they said quietly.

“What was that?” Roman said, not quite hearing the small mumble.

Logan cleared their throat, and spoke up. “Please don’t call me ‘Space Boy’. At least, not right now.”

“Why not?’ Roman asked, puzzled expression overtaking his features.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, they finally said, “I’m genderfluid. And right now, I’m on the genderqueer end of the spectrum.”

Roman nodded. “Welp, what do you go by now? I mean, pronoun- and name-wise? And who else knows?”  


“I still go by Logan, and at the moment, I’m using they/them, though it changes fairly regularly between he and they. Only Patton knows, and I would prefer you keep it that way.”

“Of course, Logan. Your comfort, safety, and honour means everything to me. I would never put you in harm’s way. And if anyone gives you grief, you let me know, yeah?”  


Ah, Roman, always so... _theatrical_.

Logan nodded. “Of course,” he said, going back to writing his essay.

* * *

 

Logan was not prepared at all to come out to Virgil.

They had gone out and bought a skirt on Friday night—a space-themed thing that went about mid-calf and flowed when they twirled. They had expected strange looks from the cashier, but the moody teen had barely glanced at their purchase except to scan it. 

It reminded them of Virgil.

Logan rushed home, clutching the bag close to their chest. They thumped up the stairs to their room, shutting the door as softly as they could behind them.

Stripping from their dark blue jeans, they pulled on the skirt and gasped slightly at the feeling. It was unlike anything they had ever experienced.

They thought it would feel even better with smooth legs.

Logan wasn’t a big shaver—heck, they could go weeks without needing to shave their beard because it just didn’t grow—but they still found a razor in the bathroom and took off the skirt, getting to work on their legs. The razor slid neatly up their legs, and in no time they were as smooth as a baby’s backside. They were no Roman, but self care was important to them (when they weren’t working on something, of course).

As soon as they were finished their legs, they slipped the skirt back on over their boxers. Dashing back to their room, Logan took of their shirt and tucked their homosexualien t-shirt into the space skirt. 

Admiring themself in the mirror, they couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

After a moment, it clicked.

Their face. Their face was too blank.

Knowing Virgil definitely had some makeup, if his emo persona was anything to go by, they made sure the coast was clear, and snuck to his room, grabbing the little eye pencil and concealer. They barely registered Virgil asleep on the bed, slightly snoring away.

They returned to their room, settling in front of the little mirror they had set up.

It was then that Virgil decided to make an entrance.

“Whatcha doin’, Logical Logan?”

Shit. They had forgotten to close the door.

Hiding the eyeliner behind their back, they turned to look at Virgil. He looked tired, like he had just woken up, and didn’t have on his signature smudged eyeliner.

Logan gulped. “I am...science. This is for science.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. “Wow. Okay, you are science. Anyway, have you seen my eyeliner?”

“Um...no?” Logan replied blushing slightly. “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing?” they said, fear suddenly making itself known in the way their throat closed up and shoulders hunched.

“Wasn’t really gonna question it,” Virgil said with a yawn. “Just assumed it was a Logan thing, but enlighten me, if you want.”

Setting the eyeliner on the desk, Logan put their glasses back on in an effort to calm themself. “I’m genderfluid.”

“Coolio. What, uh, pronouns? And name, I guess?”

Logan let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. “I switch between he/him and they/them. Right now, it’s more they/them. And still Logan.”  
  
“Alright, let me know if the pronouns change, and—wait, did you steal my eyeliner? And my concealer?”

Logan panicked.”I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Dude, chill, it’s okay. Wait, do you mind if I call you ‘dude’?”  


Logan relaxed slightly. “No, go ahead.”  


Virgil smiled at him and entered the room. “Do you need any help?”  


“Help?”

“Well, I’m not terrible with makeup. I’m assuming you don’t want dark circles, but we can get you started.”

They settled down and Virgil’s careful hands applied the makeup all over Logan’s face, feather-light touches tickling them immensely. Still, they tried not to move too much, and Virgil took frequent breaks to allow them to get used to the feeling of the makeup.

By the end, their face was covered in a subtle layer of makeup with a pop of blue in the corner of their eyes due to some eyeshadow they had raided from Roman’s room.

“Thank you, Virgil. I enjoyed this immensely.”

“No problem. We really should get you some makeup, though.”

Logan laughed slightly, grateful for everything that had happened in the past few days.


	3. Dysphoria and Pampering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is struggling with dysphoria. Patton and Roman decide to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah two chapters in two days????? Yes, I'm surprised too lol

Logan knew it was going to be a rough day the second they woke up.

It was definitely a “they” day; they could tell by the way they felt the first scratch of stubble on their face and it made them feel...gross. Unkempt.

Masculine.

They buried themself back under the covers, hoping they would fall back asleep, but it was clear that just wasn’t going to happen today. Sighing, they threw off their duvet and plopped their feet on the floor. It was cold underneath their bare soles, but they stood up and walked over to the bathroom anyway. 

Grabbing the razor that they so enthusiastically used yesterday, they put some shaving cream on their face and brought the razor up.

And...

And...

It was too much.

Logan wasn’t usually so emotional. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong. They were just shaving their face, good lord. It shouldn’t take that much out of them.

Eventually, they got through it, tears slowly streaking through the shaving cream.

Why were they feeling this way?

Seeking comfort, they went to the only person who might understand—Patton.

They snuck over to Patton’s room, still in their pyjamas. “Patton?” they tentatively called out, knocking on the door and adjusting their glasses.

Patton opened the door, looking like he had just been asleep not too long ago. He was wearing his pyjamas with a loose t-shirt, and obviously hadn’t had the time to put on a binder yet. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, taking in Logan’s slightly dishevelled appearance. “You alright, Lo?”

Logan didn’t say a word, instead deciding to just stalk into Patton’s room and flop uselessly on the bed. They mumbled something into the pillow that was so garbled Patton had no hope of making the words out.

“What was that?”

Logan lifted their head. “I feel weird and bad and I don’t know why,” they said before collapsing back town.

Patton took a seat on the bed and laid a hand comfortingly on Logan’s back, making sure the touch would be accepted before gently stroking it up and down. “Wanna talk about it?”

Logan groaned, then sat up, leaning slightly into Patton. They were being uncharacteristically clingy right now.

“I feel like my body—there’s something not quite right about it but I can’t place my finger on what,” they struggled to explain. “Like, it’s not that there’s anything wrong with it, it just needs to be...different.”

Patton nodded, not quite understanding before a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Hmm, does it have to do with your presentation?”

“I don’t know...maybe."

“Could be dysphoria. I don’t know if you’ve ever dealt with that before, but believe me when I say I have, and it’s...horrible, frankly.”  
  
“Dysphoria?”  
  
“Gender dysphoria. When you’re not happy with how you present because of your body. For you, I’m guessing it feels too masculine right now?”  


Logan nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.

It had a name.

“Well, we can fix that! First things first, what part are you having trouble with right now?”  


Logan brought a hand up to their chin. Though it was smoother than it had been this morning, it was still rough. “Face,” he said. Then he looked down. “And hands.”  


Patton nodded solemnly. “Okay, let me get dressed, and then I know just the person you need to talk to.”

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, the two were at Roman’s door, Patton rapping the door with his knuckles.

“Roman, wake up, we need you!”

A groan erupted from behind the closed door, and a shout along the lines of something about beauty sleep.

Nevertheless, he got out of bed and opened the door, red duvet wrapped around him. “Whaddayawant,” he slightly slurred out, sleep thick on his voice and eyes slightly closing.

Patton snapped his fingers right under his nose. “Logan here needs a facial.”  


“A what?”

“Facial massage. Y’know, moisturizer, face mask, cucumbers, the works.”

Roman looked at his phone. “But it’s only nine thirty in the morning!” he protested/

“Please,” Logan said quietly.

Looking at the two and realize they weren’t just fucking with him, he shut his door, grabbed bathrobe, and gathered all the necessary supplies. He emerged a couple minutes later, arms full of various soaps and lotions.

They all made their way to the bathroom, Roman setting the products on the counter (Patton adding what he had dropped on the way).

“Okay, first, a nice, relaxing bath.”

Logan widened their eyes in panic, shaking their head slightly. “No. Not today. Please.”

“Alright, Nerd, it’s fine,” he said, eyes softening. “Put on the robe, then.”

Logan took the proffered piece of clothing, wrapping it around them and settling back into the fluffiest thing they had ever felt.

They sat on a nearby chair (which was only in the bathroom so Virgil could reach the medications at the top of the medicine cabinet) and tried their best to relax, but they couldn’t help the trepidation they felt. 

Seemingly oblivious to any discomfort, Roman gently tilted Logan’s head back so it was leaning against the wall.

“I’m gonna apply the face mask in here, then you can go lay on your bed.”

And so Logan wound up with a (slightly irritating) face mask, but it wasn’t too bad. Logan could deal with it for the fifteen minutes it took to set.

Roman led him to his bed, where he laid Logan down and began to play some quiet music from his phone.

“Is this _Wicked_?”

“Just setting the mood. Your face mask does kinda make you look like Elphaba, after all.”

Logan started as something warm and moist was laid over his eyes. He quickly batted it off and threw it on the floor, beginning to breathe shallowly. 

“Shit, Logan, sorry, I forgot...” Roman apologized, picking the damp washcloth off the floor.  


“S’okay,” Logan said, trying to catch his breath. After a moment, he asked, “...Why didn’t you just use cucumbers? Isn’t that what people normally do?”

“Shit, fam, I’m a college student, do you really think I have access to fresh vegetables?”

Logan chuckled lightly and laid back down. 

“Okay, no towels then.” Roman began combing through Logan’s soft, short hair, though there weren’t many knots.

Several minutes later, Roman began carefully peeling off the face mask, and started massaging Logan’s temples with coconut oil when he was finished.

Logan leant into the touch, relishing the way it made them feel. Clean, fresh.

Feminine.

Roman continued his ministrations, applying various lotions and cleaners on Logan’s soft face. Logan hummed appreciatively, and before they knew it, their breathing was evening out, and they were falling into a peaceful slumber...

* * *

 

They awoke to soft voices murmuring in the background. Opening their eyes, they turned their head and saw Patton and Roman talking amongst themselves, huddled over an area on their desk. 

Logan sat up, cracking their back as they did so. Patton turned around, startled, but quickly grinned at them.

“Look what we’ve got!” he exclaimed.

Logan made their way over to the desk, putting on their glasses and adjusting them quietly. 

On the desk was an array of nail polish, from plain to sparkle to crackle to galaxy to pastel to—

“It’s beautiful,” Logan breathed out.

“What colour do you want?”

“What?”  


Roman smiled. “I can do your nails, too, if you want,” holding up his own sparkly, bright red nails.

Logan nodded, a grin spreading across their face at the thought. “Okay,” they said, inspecting the wide assortment of colours.

They settled on a dark, shimmery blue, and wordlessly handed the bottle to Roman. They sat across from each other on the bed, Logan splaying their hands on a tissue on the bed. 

Roman set to work, massaging his hand with a vanilla bean moisturizer and pushing back their cuticles. The feeling was so very different and they weren’t sure whether they liked it or not. When Roman pulled out the nail file, all thoughts of dealing with the discomfort went out the window.

“Absolutely not.” 

Roman look surprised, but thankfully didn’t push them. “Okay,” he said simply.

He took out bottle, shaking it for a second, then whipped out the little brush and carefully began painting Logan’s nails. Logan lost themself to the soothing feeling of paint going onto their nails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what ya think! Anyone have any scenes they want to see genderfluid!Logan in? I'm open to ideas for the next chapter!
> 
> (Also excuse any typos I was excited and wrote this in like three hours or less)


	4. Switching It Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the lovely [AriPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriPhoenix/pseuds/AriPhoenix) for some wonderful ideas!

_He/Him_

A couple days later, Logan immediately realized he felt different the moment he woke up. He looked down at his chest and realized the flatness didn’t bother him anymore.

_Ahh. So today is a ‘he’ day._

Logan stood up and put on his regular attire of a polo and dark jeans (he honestly hated denim; but he didn’t want to be seen as a slob, and all his dress pants were in the wash).

Stretching, he made his way out of bed. He caught a glimpse of his hands, surprised that the nail polish didn’t exactly bother him. He thought he would hate it on his more masculine days, but it made him look more complete anyway.

Logan made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Patton was there, making pancakes.

“Hi, Lo!” he said with a smile, muttering the word “piccolo” under his breath shortly after.

“What?”  


“Nothing. Anyway, wanna pancake?”

“No thanks.”

Patton looked slightly hurt, and made puppy dog eyes at Logan, silently pleading. 

“Fine. One.”

“Thank you!” Patton said cheerily, serving up two pancakes just to watch Logan’s frustrated expression.

Virgil suddenly emerged from his room up the stairs, nose in the air like a dog. “I smell...pancakes?”  


“Yep, c’mon down, kiddo!”

He tentatively came down the stairs, fidgeting with the bottom of his hoodie. Virgil was improving, but it was still obvious that the thought of anything with more calories than an apple made him nervous and guilty.

Virgil sat down at the table, jiggling his leg nervously. Patton laid a comforting hand on his back and a pancake on his plate. 

The three sat down around the table, all with pancakes. Logan cut his into neat little slices with nothing on them, and Patton drowned his in syrup before voraciously scarfing them down. Virgil continued poking his around with his fork, a glum look on his face.

“Virgil, honey, try to eat just half, okay?” Patton said.

Virgil started, glancing up at Patton. He carefully cut up the pancake and took a bite, swallowing it like it was poison.

It was then Roman emerged.

He broke into song—probably something from Broadway or Disney, though Logan couldn’t place the tune. His voice filled the small kitchen, and he held out his hand for Logan to grab, hauling him to his feet when he accepted. 

“And I was like, what the heck I gotta do to be with you?” he sang.

Patton joined in, singing, “What the heck I gotta do?”  


They continued like that for a time, Roman trying to twirl Logan around while Logan just tried to stay on two feet. 

Roman wrapped up the song with a triumphant, “Yes!” He flopped down on a kitchen chair, smiling smugly as everyone else returned to their seats (except Virgil, who had taken the opportunity to throw out three quarters of his pancake and sit back down while everyone was distracted).

“What was that all about,” he said after coughing awkwardly.

“Oh, c’mon, Edge of Darkness, you’re telling me it’s uncommon to wake up with a song stuck in your head?”

“That doesn’t meanbreak into song like it’s a damn Disney movie.”

“Well, your life is boring.” Virgil frowned. “Kidding! You should try it though.”

Virgil glanced around the table at each of them. “Is he serious?”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “The amount of times I’ve woken up to Roman singing something or another is...overwhelming.”

“Aww, but you love me.”

Logan tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably. “Of course,” he said with a nod.

They lapsed into silence, before Roman broke it once again. Roman could never sit in the quiet for more than three minutes. “So, how’s my favourite non-binary pal doing today?” Roman asked, mouth full of pancake that he had stolen from Patton’s plate.

Logan squirmed in his chair before answering, head down. “Actually, today feels more like a ‘he’ day,” he said softly.

Roman blinked at him. “My bad. I should’ve asked before assuming.”

“It’s fine.”

Virgil cleared his throat. “Question: How’re we supposed to know your pronouns for the day?”

“You could always ask him,” Patton said.

“I feel like there should be an easier way. Like, what if it changes halfway through the day? Do we have to ask every time we talk to or about you? Which I don’t mind doing,” he hastily added. 

“Well, I suppose that’s the only way,” Logan said uncomfortably.

“I’ll look into it,” Roman said, reaching over and patting Logan’s shoulder. “See what I can do. I have a legion of Instagram followers who might have suggestions.”

* * *

_They/Them_

The next day, Logan woke up and the familiar feeling of dysphoria rose up in their too-flat chest. It wasn’t terrible, but enough to give them an indication that today would be a ‘they’ day.

But they couldn’t keep switching things up every day; that would make it impossible for anyone to follow.

Sighing, Logan got out of bed and went to Roman’s room.

The two had become particularly close after Logan’s second year. They didn’t have a lot in common, and it was definitely a case of of ‘opposites attract’. Roman somehow got Logan’s feet off the ground, and Logan was always there to ground some of Roman’s more...outlandish ideas.

Today was one of the days where Logan needed to forget who they were.

They went to Roman’s room, and heard music from inside, so they took a deep breath, knocked, and opened the door. 

“Whatcha need, Nerd? Also, what pronouns?” Roman said, laying on his bed with some music playing through the tinny speakers of his phone.

“I—I don’t—never mind, it’s stupid,” Logan said, blushing furiously.

“No, come hither,” Roman said jokingly, though his expression betrayed his worry.

Logan stepped back into the room, adjusting their glasses and flapping their arms a couple times. “I was wondering if...”

Embarrassingly, tears formed in their eyes, and they struggled to wipe them away.

“Hey, no need for that,” Roman said, springing up. “C’mon, lay down with me.” 

Logan looked up, afraid to admit that that was exactly what they wanted. They needed some form of contact, something to remind themself that their body was alright.

They wanted to feel loved.

They made a quick decision before practically diving onto the bed, Roman following shortly after. He wrapped his arm around them, prepared to withdraw it at any time. Logan relaxed into the physical contact, curling into Roman. They buried their face into Roman’s side, and Roman put on some relaxing classical music that Logan enjoyed.

Fortunately, they were no longer crying—it appeared that it was a one-time thing—but Logan still felt lousy.

_Feelings,_ they thought. _How horrible. Take them back, please._

Then Roman began gently stroking his short hair and they pulled away. “Don’t—don’t touch my hair,” they said, suddenly uncomfortable with how short it was.

“Okay, my apologies.”

They both settled back down. “So, what’s goin’ on,” Roman said after several minutes of silence.

Logan sighed. “I feel...bad about myself today. I don’t want to say my body’s wrong, because there’s noting particularly bad about it, but it doesn’t reflect who I am right now.”

Roman hummed in understanding. “Well, what would make you feel better?”  
  
Logan buried their head back into Roman’s chest. They mumbled something that sounded like, “I duh nuh,” which Roman took to mean “I don’t know.”  
  
Roman knew it was a bad day then, because Logan _hated_ admitting when they didn’t know something. 

They touched the stubble on their legs, which had started to grow back already after only a few days. 

Feeling self-conscious, they immediately stood up and fled the room with a stuttered, “S-sorry.” They couldn’t believe they broke down so easily in front of Roman. 

They ran into Virgil in the hall, who was brushing his teeth. 

“Woah, slow down there, Logan. You okay?”

Logan shook their head slightly and ducked into their room, shutting the door. They slid down behind it, wedging it shut from Virgil and Roman’s frantic knocks. Roman stopped quickly, after realizing it probably wasn’t helping, and instructed Virgil to do the same.

Logan took off their glasses and buried their face in their hands. It was too much, too much, too much.

“Logan,” Virgil started outside the door.

Roman knocked out a pattern. “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

“Not now, Roman!”  
  
“I think you just need to let it go.”

“Roman!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a bit of a fixer-upper...”

They continued their bickering, Roman saying Frozen puns that would make Patton proud, before Logan finally opened the door after collecting himself.

“What do you want?” they said, ignoring the slight tremble in their voice.

“Fuck, we just want to make sure you’re okay! Don’t do that to us!” Virgil said frantically.

“I apologize...I just needed a minute.” 

Roman’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey, I know you’re not feeling too good about yourself—”  


“Relatable,” Virgil said, crossing his arms.

Roman scowled at him. “Anyway, why don’t we go shopping?”

* * *

 

An hour later they were at the mall, in front of a shoe shop. Logan’s legs were freshly shaved, and they kept rubbing them together underneath their jeans. The mall wasn’t too crowded (a good thing for both Logan and Virgil), but Patton had to work at the clinic, so he couldn’t join them (not good). 

The three entered the store, Roman enthusiastically pointing towards the women’s section. 

“C’mon—just try on a couple,” he said as convincingly as he could. 

Giving in, they agreed.

Ten minutes later, they had three pairs of shoes piled in their arms—black ankle boots with a major heel, some stilettos that Roman insisted on (though they wold probably never wear them), and a pair of fake leather lace-up boots that went about mid-calf. 

First, they tried on the leather boots. With their pants over top of them, they cold pass as regular dress shoes, but Logan got a thrill of euphoria from the feminine flair. 

Next, they tried on the stilettos, mostly to humour the other two. Of course, they nearly tripped, and the feeling of balancing like that made them want to vomit, so they moved on to the next shoes.

These...these could only be woman’s shoes. With the decorative studs on the side to the two-and-a-half inch heels, there was no way to pass them off as gender-neutral or masculine.

Logan slipped them on, heart thumping with anxiety. What if someone saw them? What if they asked questions? What if—

_Just breathe, Logan._

They stood up, much more balanced on the heels. They tried to walk, and soon they were strutting confidently down the aisle.

Yes, these were the ones.

Roman wolf-whistled and Virgil gave them a thumbs-up, so they counted it as a win. With the heels, they were slightly taller than Roman, so they patted him on the head.

After buying the two pairs of shoes, they made their way to a Forever 21. 

They went in with Roman only because Virgil found a Hot Topic, and, after making fun of him for four minutes, Roman sensed Logan’s nervousness, let him go into it alone.

Roman found a pair of shorts that weren’t too short (though still shorter than anything Logan would usually consider wearing), and a pair of fishnet stockings.

“Are you sure about this?” Logan asked, eyeing the fishnets dubiously.

“Shh, you’ll look great.”

So Logan put on a dark blue tank top, the fishnet stocking, then the short shorts. Making a split second decision, they put on the ankle boots they had just bought. 

Wringing their hands, they stepped out of the dressing room, fully prepared for Roman to start laughing. 

Roman looked up and his mouth nearly dropped.

Logan was quick to stop back into the change room, head down as they thought of Roman’s reaction.

“No, no, no, come back out, I just...Logan, you look _stunning._ ”

Logan shyly came back out, but Roman continued to reassure them.

In the end, they decided it wasn’t their style (despite Roman’s protests), and moved on to the next shop, which happened to sell a variety of dresses.

Was Logan prepared?  
  
Absolutely not.

Nevertheless, they went in, alone, and tried on several dresses. They came out of the store forty minutes later with a bag, but refused to show Roman and Virgil what they bought.

It ended up being a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew I really struggled with this chapter but it ended up being hella long. As usual, hope you enjoy, the finale for this fic is coming up next!


	5. Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY I THOUGHT I FINISHED THIS SO I WAS TAKING A LITTLE BREAK AS SCHOOL GOT CRAZY BUT APPARENTLY I LEFT IT UNFINISHED I AM THE WORST anyway here ya go hope you like it! idk if I'll be coming back to this AU, I'm kinda losing motivation to write right now. But if you like it and want me to continue, please let me know!!! Love you guys :)

_They/Them_

Later that night, Logan received a text from Roman.

_meet us at the caboose and wear something FANCY_

The Caboose? That was the local bar. Logan wasn’t really one for drinking—they hated the feeling of being buzzed and the bitter taste beer left in their mouth—but they didn’t mind the occasional party, if they were feeling up to it.

Tonight, they definitely were.

With some hesitation, Logan brought out the bag and pulled out the black cocktail dress they bought that day. They stared at the dark fabric, with the simple belt around the middle and the slightly open back. It was rather neutral (for a dress), and Logan was definitely in the mood to bring out their feminine side.

They unzipped the back and stepped in, struggling to re-zip it after they had it on. They buttoned up the back collar, resting comfortably around their neck. The collar didn’t emphasize their lack of breasts, which they were grateful for.

Logan went into the bathroom and pulled out their new makeup palette. Not really knowing what to do, they searched up tutorials on their phone. Nothing really struck them, until... _yes, do that!_

They got to work on their face, not bothering with the foundation that made their skin crawl or lipstick that irritated their lips. Instead, Logan focused mostly on their eyes. Some blue, some purple, some black, and lastly, a few white flecks. 

Stepping back, they raised their glasses to their face and glanced at their reflection. 

Staring back at them was a beautiful, if not slightly androgynous person with a little black dress and some space-themed eye makeup.

They quickly brushed their hair, then went to the car and drove themself to the caboose.

When they arrived, they took a deep breath, and entered the establishment.

They quickly looked around, not seeing anyone they knew. Panicking, they frantically turned around when a voice shsouted, “Logan, over here!”

They turned around towards the voice, realizing it was Patton waving them over to the table where the rest of the “squad”, as Roman would’ve put it, were sitting.

Logan made their way over to the table, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the dress and adjusting their glasses.

Patton squealed as soon as Logan got close.

“Lookin’ good, Specs,” Roman said with a smile.

“It’s black. I dig it,” Virgil said with an approving nod. 

It was then Logan realized what they were all wearing.

During all their research, they had come to know the flags of the LGBTQ+ community quite well. And they realized now they definitely weren’t the only queer one amongst their friends.

Virgil had a black dress shirt on, but with a skinny rainbow tie and a flag that was white, grey, and purple, and had a little black triangle on one side.

_Demisexual; experiencing attraction only after a strong emotional bond has been formed._

Next, Roman was wearing clothes that were entirely pink, purple, and blue. He definitely made the colours work well together. Roman could make anything a fashion statement.

_Bisexual; experiencing attraction to two or more genders._

Patton was wearing a blue polo and atrocious pink “dad pants”. Not the best dressed, but definitely a statement.

_Transgender; when someone’s gender identity does not line up with their assigned gender at birth._

Like Virgil, he had a little flag he was waving enthusiastically. It had the same colours as Virgil’s, but in a different order.

_Asexual; experiencing little to no attraction._

All of them had a conglomeration of rainbow or otherwise queer attire, including pins, temporary tattoos, and even a bit of facepaint in Roman’s case (“Shh, it’s makeup, Pat!”). 

“Permission to hug, Houston?” Roman asked, spreading his arms out.

Slightly uncomfortable with all the attention, but nevertheless wanting to please Roman and show their appreciation, they shook their head with a small smile and both settled for a fist bump. 

Virgil shyly handed Logan a wrapped present.

“What’s this?” they asked curiously, gingerly turning it over in their hands.

“A gift from all of us,” Patton interjected. “We appreciate you a lot, Lo. We appreciate that you felt safe enough to come out to us, and we believe you should always be comfortable with who you are. We got something that might help others recognize that, too.”

Logan carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a square black velvet box. They opened it up with a satisfying pop. 

Inside was aa plain silver chain, with two charms, dog tag style, resting unattached on either side of where it swooped down. On the left, the tag said, “HE/HIM”. On the right, it said, “THEY/THEM”.

A pronoun necklace.

The group had gotten them a pronoun necklace.

They felt their throat slightly close up at the gesture. “I...am not great with emotions,” they said. “But thank you so, so much.”

Logan set the box down and opened their arms, a clear offer that Patton was the first to take up. He stumbled into their arms, Roman following close behind. Virgil settled across the table, giving Logan a fist bump from where their hand was free.

The group broke away after a couple of minutes, Patton suspiciously wiping his eyes. “We’re so proud of you.”

Logan bowed their head, getting a little misty-eyed themself. They finally felt like the person they were meant to be, that they were accepted by the people that mattered the most. They all spent the rest of the night celebrating being themselves—and no one would ever bring them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnd that's the end of Alexithymia. Please leave comments I'm an attention whore and I'm desperate to know your thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is [@guav-writes](https://guav-writes.tumblr.com/) or [@lil-lycanthropy](http://lil-lycanthropy.tumblr.com/)


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